Walking into the Sunshine
by SweetG
Summary: "What's wrong?" Blaine asks, then, attempting to be soothing. "Twenty minutes, Blaine," he almost squeaks out. "Twenty minutes. We need to get changed and we— oh God, dad. Someone needs to tell him before we give him a heart attack, and he's officiating—" "Oh," Brittany interrupts him then, "Burt knows." Kurt stops pacing and just gapes at Brittany.


"This is crazy," he whispers, between frantic kisses.

"I know," Blaine tells him, in a whisper just as frantic before he's kissing him again— sloppy and hard, squishing his face between his warm hands. "I know— it's— I _know_."

Kurt breaks the kiss, and leans his forehead against Blaine's, letting out a long, shaky exhale.

"We're _insane_ ," he tells Blaine, in no uncertain terms, looking into his eyes, searching for a flicker of doubt, for a hint of fear, for—

"I love you," Blaine blurts out, rubbing soft circles on his cheeks with his thumbs, meeting his gaze unwaveringly, hazel eyes determined, big, shining. "I love you, _I love you so much_ , Kurt, you have no idea how much. I can't see myself not loving you ten years down the line, or twenty, or thirty. I can see us growing old and grumpy together and I know, I _know_ it's mad, it's— geez, it's _insane_ , but— I want this. Do you? Do you want this?"

And that there— that there is unfair, Blaine Devon Anderson.

"God, yes, _yes_. I do."

"Well," Santana interrupts, and Kurt feels himself flushing at the reminder that they aren't even alone right now, "not that this isn't heartwarming and touching and all that, but we're meant to walk down the aisle in about twenty minutes, and I'm not delaying my entrance so you can have premarital sex in a barn."

That makes Kurt's bubble of mad joy burst, about as abruptly as— well, as the whole situation.

"Twenty minutes," he repeats, and jumps out of Blaine's grasp, who looks a little sad at the sudden development, before he catches the distressed look Kurt is sure is on his face.

Kurt starts pacing, one hand over his mouth, as he holds his elbow with the other one. He can see Brittany looking at him with concern from where she's sitting next to her bride-to-be. Santana, looking gorgeous and just the tiniest bit intimidating in her white robe, is just looking at him with one sculpted eyebrow arched. And Sue. He can't see her as he paces, but he can't feel her behind him, but she's surely—

"What's wrong?" Blaine asks, then, attempting to be soothing.

" _Twenty minutes_ , Blaine," he almost squeaks out. "Twenty minutes. We need to get changed and we— oh God, _dad_. Someone needs to tell him before we give him a heart attack, and he's _officiating_ —"

"Oh," Brittany interrupts him then, "Burt knows."

Kurt stops pacing and just gapes at Brittany.

 _"What?"_

"Well, he doesn't know you _agreed_ yet, but he was totally in on this awesome plan," she tells him, sounding way too smug as she leans on Santana, who only grabs her hand and looks at her as though she is the most brilliant woman alive.

Kurt's going to be having words with his father, after all of this is over.

He looks at Blaine then, and there's just— there's just something in the way his eyes glint that—

"Did _you_ know?"

Blaine looks downright shifty and it's completely unfair, the fact that Kurt can't even find it in himself to be mad as he breathes in deeply.

"I didn't really _know_ anything," Blaine says after a couple of seconds. "I swear I didn't, but I— when my mom got an invitation for the wedding, I just thought that was— well, I thought that was a little strange."

"And you didn't think to share this with me?" Kurt asks, his voice going a little high pitched.

"I thought after Sue's meddling, I'd just gotten paranoid."

"It's not paranoia if they are out to get you, Blaine," he says, and he sounds positively faint.

"Oh, please. I'm hardly out to get you, Porcelain," Sue says then, "if I were you'd already be dead and buried in a location so hidden it might as well be William Schuester's sense of humor."

"If you're done with your mandatory wedding day freak-out," Santana drawls then, "You have about fourteen minutes to get your act together."

 _Oh God_ , Kurt thinks, and has a little trouble just breathing, _fourteen minutes_.

"I can make someone go fetch you a spider for your tux, if that'd make you feel better," Brittany offers.

He feels Blaine's heavy hands on his shoulders, then, and when Kurt looks up at him, they travel up to his neck and then even further up until they're cupping his face. He melts into the touch, without realizing he's doing it, until he's practically leaning his face against one of Blaine's calloused palms.

"Hey," Blaine starts, soft and intimate, and so loving it pulls on every single string on Kurt's heart. "We don't have to do this. Yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I dream about that, more than anything else. But I want you to be sure even more. I can wait if you're not ready. We can wait. It's okay."

And just like that, with Blaine's honesty, with his steady gaze on his, his hands on him, and the overpowering strength of the love in him… just like that, Kurt is ready.

"The vows," he almost whispers.

Blaine frowns.

"What?"

"The vows," he repeats, louder and more confident than he has sounded or felt since he stepped foot into all this insanity, and straightens up and mourns the loss of Blaine's hands on him for a couple of seconds as he turns around to inspect their tuxes. "We're getting married in fourteen minutes, Blaine, we need vows."

"Well, Porcelain, it so happens that—"

He turns around to face Sue.

"—Sue, I'm touched by your determination and commitment to making this happen—even though I'm also slightly concerned by your fixation— but I'm not getting married with vows that you wrote."

"Oh, snap," Santana says, after an ungraceful snort.

"And that's what you get for being nothing but helpful with this crowd of misfits," Sue protests, crossing her arms over her chest.

Kurt ignores them and turns to look back at Blaine, and offers him a smile that he can feel is all sorts of mad and huge and smitten, and an outstretched hand that's slightly shaky.

"We have fourteen minutes to make this happen, Blaine Anderson."

Blaine's responding smile is blinding, easily the most gorgeous thing Kurt has ever seen, and when he takes his hand, and walks up to the tuxes with him, his grip is strong and sure, and the fit is perfect.


End file.
